


No One Knows Anything But Us

by pmastamonkmonk



Series: YDSTM [2]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: After the talent show, Charlie is desperate to get Angel Dust to sing again.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Series: YDSTM [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578112
Comments: 77
Kudos: 1027





	1. Charlie

“Nah, I’m good.”

Charlie’s face fell, “But why not? You’re so good! And we have that stage now – everyone’s been asking if you’ll sing again! No one expected you to be so talented!”

Angel Dust made a face at the almost backhanded compliment but knew Charlie didn’t mean it that way, “I just… don’t really wanna? Singin’ in front of a crowd is weird.”

“But you just-“

“I did ya a favor ‘cause you asked me to,” he cut in. “It’s not somethin’ I’d wanna do all the time, alright? I gotta reputation to maintain!”

"But-" at Angel Dust's frown, she deflated. “Okay… but… at least think about it?”

With a huff, Angel Dust rolled his eyes, walking away. Charlie watched him go, her face screwing up in determination. Angel Dust obviously enjoyed singing – he’d seemed so happy on stage and especially after the talent show when everyone was praising him, she just couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t want somewhere to do it all the time! Maybe he was just shy and needed someone to just push him into the spotlight!

She tapped her foot before snapping her finger with a smile. She'd just have to give him that push, and she had a few ideas just how to do it.

Two weeks later, during a standard reentry search Charlie asked again. “You peg me as the kinda guy who’d love Cher. Maybe we can go do karaoke together? There’s a nice karaoke bar not too far from here, the kind with the private rooms!”

“I mean, Cher is swell I guess, but karaoke ain’t really my schtick.” He dropped his arms as she stepped back. “Why don’t you take Vaggie?”

“She doesn’t like to sing, she always just sits there and I end up singing the whole time,” Charlie pouted, batting her eyelashes. “But you really seemed to enjoy it… and I’d love to sing with you!”

Angel Dust frowned, “Sorry, doll, nothin’ doin’.” He folded his upper hands behind his head as he strut through the lobby on his way to the staircase. Charlie swore under her breath, letting out a deep sigh.

Okay, maybe a different tactic.

She waited another few weeks, Angel Dust flitting in and out of the hotel preventing her from really catching him at any moment for more than a quick reentry search or so much as a wave, but here at the bar with Husker she had her chance.

“I found a DVD copy of _Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_ , Angel Dust, wanna watch together?”

Angel Dust paused, cosmo poised at his lips and brow furrowing. “Not my favorite, really… I prefer _Pretty Woman_.”

Charlie’s face fell a bit, “Oh… uh… I’m sure I could find a copy of that? We can invite Vaggie and Nifty, make it a girl's night!”

Finishing his drink, Angel Dust stood, cracking his neck. “Some other time, sweetheart, Val wants me at the club at seven so I gotta go get ready.” He gave her shoulder a firm pat as he walked by, “Husk likes Marilyn, maybe he’ll watch with you.”

Attention turning to Husker in confusion, Charlie watched the bartender’s face screw up in fury as he growled, fur bristling. “Tell a guy somethin’ in confidence… see if I tell him anything anytime soon… fuckin blabbermouth bitch… goddamn fuckin'...”

Letting him grumble to himself, Charlie sighed again. She did not think it would be this difficult. She _loved_ performing – so much so that Vaggie had often times had to step in because she’d gotten way too into it and people were staring. She couldn’t understand how someone who had so obviously enjoyed being on stage would be so adamant against sharing it with her.

Maybe she just had to be sneakier?

She spent days listening at Angel Dust’s door, hoping to catch a tune filtering from the shower, only to be scared off with the bawdy noises of him… enjoying himself.

She spent hours following behind him as he walked through the hotel to see if he might hum a few bars only to realize he’d known she was following, leading her in circles.

Evenings were wasted playing song after song on the radio at the front desk from every possible decade and genre, eagerly eyeing him as he walked by to see if his attention was caught until he just stopped passing by the front desk at all.

“Hun, maybe he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t like singing in front of people,” Vaggie rubbed her back as Charlie sat, head in hands, “a lot of people don’t.”

“But he did it at the talent show and he’s so _GOOD_ at it, Vaggie!” she whined, throwing herself back against the sofa dramatically. “Maybe if I do another talent show…”

“It hasn’t even been six months since the last one, with all the shit you’ve been pulling I think he’ll see right through that.” Vaggie rested a hand on Charlie's thigh, patting her gently. "You asking so much is probably just making him dig his heels in - you know how stubborn he can be."

Charlie moaned, wiggling back and forth into the cushions. “This is so unfaaaaair.”

“Look, you gave it a good try. He’s just not a performer... well, not _that_ kind of performer. He gets so much attention for his _other_ performances, he probably likes to sing while he’s by himself! In private. And we should respect that.”

"You think maybe he's sung in any of those movies he's made?"

Vaggie's hand stopped. "You really wanna try and find out?"

Moaning again, Charlie threw an arm over her eyes, pouting theatrically. “You’re right…”

Vaggie smiled indulgently, reaching up and petting her girlfriend’s hair. “How about this. If you go get some snacks, I’ll go set up _Phantom_ in our room… and I’ll even sing along to the songs I know.”

“ _Really?!”_ Charlie sat up, beaming widely. “You’d do that? For me?”

Laughing, Vaggie nodded, rising to her feet. “Of course I would. Now, go on, I want pretzels.”

Charlie squealed as Vaggie made her way up the stairs, dancing in place before heading to the kitchen, humming _Angel of Music_ to herself as she skipped down the winding halls. Hopefully Nifty wouldn’t mind her poking in so late to fix something up for the two of them as long as she cleaned up after herself - she knew how protective the little demon was of the kitchen.

As she approached the kitchen door, however, she could smell something delicious and hear music playing. Not unusual, Nifty would often have the radio playing while she cooked – but she should’ve been finished in the kitchen at least an hour ago as dinner had long since passed.

Pushing the door open, she paused, jaw dropping before quickly ducking back to avoid being caught. She peered around the door, watching as Angel Dust stood at the stove, her own frilly pink apron over his equally pink sweater, stirring a large pot while he sang.

“ _And all of the voices surrounding us here, they just fade out when you take a breath…”_

His voice was as soft and smooth as she remembered from the talent show and she beamed, biting back a squeal. She'd thought the spider had gone out for Valentino tonight, what luck to find him here! He was just so _good_ , she hoped now that she had finally caught him singing again that she could convince him to sing with her. And maybe… with some more gentle nudging from there… finally convince him to sing for the rest of the hotel patrons as well. She knew for a fact there were a few besides her still desperate to hear him perform again.

As she moved to step inside, she paused, finally noticing Alastor of all people perched on a barstool at the kitchen island. He had a glass of bourbon resting in lax fingers and his head resting in the palm of his hand as he – and there was no better word for it – _gazed_ at the spider’s back, eyes half lidded and smile more serene than she had ever seen on the Radio Demon as he watched the other man at the stove.

“ _Should this be the last thing I see, I want you to know it’s enough for me, ‘cause all that you are is all that I’ll ever need…”_

Charlie stepped back, feeling suddenly as if she were intruding on something special and, moreover, _private_.

Letting the door close quietly, she sighed, looking upwards in defeat. It was obvious Vaggie had been at least half right… it wasn’t that Angel Dust only liked to sing by himself, it was that singing was something very personal for him, something he would only share with a select few if given the choice.

And while she couldn’t see Angel Dust’s face while he was singing, she knew the two men in the kitchen had somehow gotten to be much closer without any of the rest of them even realizing.

… because Alastor looked at Angel Dust the same way she looked at Vaggie.


	2. Husker

“Where the fuck you been?” Husk asked as he poured a double and set it in front of Alastor. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of you for days.”

“I’ve been around, my good fellow, you simply haven’t been looking in the right places.”

Husker sneered, “Well, s’long as you’re not causin’ any trouble.” He took a shot himself before busying his hands with wiping down the counter, ears twitching at the tell tale click of heels approaching. “Speakin’ of trouble…”

“I got good boy points,” Angel Dust proudly proclaimed, slapping a ticket on the counter.

“For somethin’ fruity, I bet,” Husker took the ‘good boy point’ ticket and set it into the box under the counter before reaching for the cointreau and vodka, “like a cosmo?”

“Nah, I’m feelin’ nostalgic,” Angel Dust slid into the seat right next to Alastor with a familiarity that had Husker’s eyebrow raising, especially as every other seat at the bar was empty. Its brother raised when the Radio Demon made not so much as a twitch of a complaint. “Know how t’make a Mary Pickford?”

Alastor’s eyes positively lit up. “Oh, my, I haven’t had one of those since before the stock market crash! Husker, my good fellow, make that two.”

Husker looked between his two customers, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, I know how to make one.” He reached for the white rum as Alastor began regaling his new drinking partner with his introduction to the specific cocktail.

“You can imagine what prohibition did to a city like New Orleans,” a laugh track played behind him as he accepted the bronze tinted drink with a tilt of his head. “Why, try as the law might, you simply can’t keep liquor off those streets! I dare say people drank even _more_ when the stuff got outlawed!”

“That’s how it was in New York, too,” Angel Dust grinned. “I remember pops and the guys mixin’ up hooch in the basement when I was a kid – smelled terrible. It was hard on ma switchin’ from wine to gin, but those South Side Fizzes weren’t too bad… even if the shit we made it with was damn near paint thinner.”

“Well that was the point with most of these drinks, really,” Alastor beamed, sipping at his Mary Pickford, “mix enough fruit juice and honey into gasoline and it’ll be palatable when you’re desperate.”

Angel Dust rested his chin on one of his hands, looking Alastor over with a sly smile. “Oh yeah? Can’t say I picture you getting _desperate_ ,”

Husker waited for Alastor to bristle at the obvious flirt and almost felt his jaw drop when the other man simply laughed and _flirted back_. “Why my dear, that’s because _I’m_ the one who makes others desperate.”

Angel Dust threw his head back with a laugh and Alastor quickly followed suit, leaving Husker confused and uncomfortable and what seemed to be an inside joke between the pair.

Obviously, he had missed something.

The next few days he kept a closer eye on the two of them. It was rare that they were alone together, what with Alastor’s hands full with the goings on of the hotel and his own radio tower, and Angel Dust busy with whatever task he’d been assigned by his pimp, but when they were Husker noticed that the “five foot rule” had become more of a suggestion than a hard and fast regulation.

While his visits from Alastor were sporadically consistent – if he was going to show up for a drink it would be at seven exactly and if he wasn’t there he wasn’t going to be - Angel Dust was consistently sporadic – if he was in the hotel he was going to stop by, but the time was always a mystery. When he did grace the bar with his presence it was usually for a juice or tonic water as he’d run out of good boy points or failed to accrue any before either heading out for the evening or as a pit stop on his way back in before making his way up to his room or the lounge.

Every once in a while, those visits would line up and Angel Dust would sidle right into the seat next to Alastor and order a cocktail from decades past instead of his usual fruity concoctions and the two would fall into a discussion of years gone by. Angel Dust would flirt as he was prone to, batting his eyes at Husker as he ordered, and while he still put on a show of disgust at the other man’s flirting, he could tell there was no bite to the come ons anymore. Angel Dust’s attentions seemed squarely fixated on their generous benefactor when they were around each other and Husker was trying to figure out just when _that_ laser focus had switched on.

And also why Alastor somehow seemed… _okay_ with it??

It was a few weeks later when he was shutting down the bar for the evening that he caught sight of Angel Dust slipping down the stairs. Not unusual – he knew the spider had trouble sleeping most nights and would sometimes try and wheedle a nightcap out of the bartender before being shooed away empty handed.

As he checked off his inventory sheet, he watched as Angel Dust turned down a hall _away_ from the bar, not even glancing his way.

When there was no sound of mischief or sign of him returning, Husker finished up his closing tasks, quickly locking the cage around the alcohol and pocketing his keys before padding after him on light feet. Having cats paws made stealth quite a bit easier than it had been in life and he used that stealth to his advantage, turning down the same hallway to investigate.

The only open room would’ve been the old lounge, he decided, every other space in the wing being locked storage– one of the main reasons Charlie had started the renovation was because the original lounge had been so out of the way, guests rarely used it.

What could Angel Dust be using that room for at damn near two in the morning?

There was light filtering from under the lounge door and muffled music playing on the other side. He couldn’t quite place it, but just based on the pulsing beat thrumming he knew it had to be more modern - why no one in this god forsaken shithole would listen to anything like Zeppelin or Styx was beyond him.

A test of the knob found it locked and Husker almost snorted – there wasn’t a lock in hell short of an Overlord barrier that could keep him out. Even more curious as to what Angel Dust could be hiding, he started on the lock, making quick work of it.

He knew the phrase “curiosity killed the cat” and the risk he took barging in on the lewd and crude demon, but nothing prepared him for what he saw as he cracked the door open and peered inside.

“ _You kill the lights, I’ll draw the blinds, don’t dull the sparkle in your eyes, I know that we were made to break, so what? I don’t mind…”_

Alastor’s hand was braced against Angel Dust’s shoulder blades, his posture tall and free hand outstretched, Angel Dust’s clasped within it. They were pressed almost flush together as they stepped across the floor in time to the beat, giving almost subtle twists and kicks to their feet as they went – perfectly in time with each other. At one point, Angel Dust kicked his leg forward just as Alastor pivoted, leading them in a whirlwind of spins that should’ve been nothing but dizzying but with how in sync they were it was more mesmerizing than anything.

And, much like the talent show, Angel Dust was singing through what should be a rigorous tango with barely a huff to his breath.

“ _I am a fire gasoline, come pour yourself all over me, we’ll let this place go down in flames only one more time…”_

Husker was not surprised that Alastor could dance – the man was a southern dandy through and through and he’d have been more surprised if the scarlet demon didn’t dance. What did surprise him was the fact that he was dancing something as _sexual_ as the tango with Angel Dust of all people and wasn’t stiff as a ruler.

Sure, he wasn’t thrusting his hips and Angel Dust wasn’t curled all over him the way he’d danced during the talent show, but the performance before him was still raw and almost _sensuous_. Intimacy wasn’t just in the physical touch of their bodies so close, it was the innate sense of each other as they moved. The two didn’t miss a beat, twirling around the floor in what appeared to be a perfectly choreographed routine betrayed only by a slight pause or hitch as Alastor changed direction or pivoted them too quickly – though Angel Dust fell into step just as swiftly.

“ _Are you gonna stay the night? Doesn’t mean we’re bound for life, so oh oh oh are you gonna stay the night_ …”

Angel Dust stepped back in a lunge, leaning back against Alastor’s grip before being pulled flush, their chests pressed against one another as Alastor curved his arm tighter around his back and pressed their hands to his hips, lifting Angel Dust’s feet off the floor, spine arched in an impressive spin before setting him back on his feet and stepping back, their arms outstretched in the middle as the song ended.

Husker resisted the urge to applaud such a performance, still gathering his bearings that Mr. Five-Foot-Rule was damn near dirty dancing with the hotel’s resident hooker and seemingly enjoying himself if the smile on his face had anything to say about it.

“See, Smiles, told you it’s way more fun if you let yourself get into it.”

“Well it’s no Viennese Waltz, but I suppose I do see the appeal,” Alastor conceded, head tilting and smile wide. He extended his hand out and Husker was baffled to see Angel Dust step right into his arms, resting a hand on his shoulder and folding their extended hands together, falling neatly into step and on the next beat sweeping across the floor.

He let the door close and stepped back, staring at the shadows passing across the light beam underneath for a long moment before pulling the keys out of his pocket and heading right back to the bar. He needed a drink.

The next day found Alastor settling into his seat at seven precisely and Husker poured him a bourbon without being asked. The Radio Demon hummed, swirling the glass for a moment. “You aren’t as stealthy as you like to think, my good man,” he took a sip before giving him a look and Husker knew he’d been caught.

Husker huffed, taking a swig from his own bottle. Just because he’d been caught didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun with it, “So, you stay the night?”

If Husker hadn’t bred a stern sense of self preservation he’d have said that Alastor was blushing. Taking another sip, the Radio Demon smiled serenely, “Of course not, my dear fellow, I saw him to his room as a gentleman should before retiring to my own for the evening.”

“Three AM still counts as evening?” Alastor gave him an unimpressed look, hiding behind his glass as he took another sip. “Look, pal, I’ve known you long enough to keep my whiskers outta your business,” Husker shrugged, taking a long swig. “S’long as you two are happy and I don’t have to hear about it, I couldn’t give half a shit what you’re doin’.” He peered at him for a long moment before nodding decisively. “And I won’t tell anybody that you were getting all up in his pelvis last night, either.”

A drone of static surrounded Alastor as he slammed his empty glass down, quieting to a dull buzz as Husker laughed, turning his attention back to the liquor bottles behind him. “Yes. Well.” Alastor attempted to glower, but behind the smile and the flush to his cheeks it was far from intimidating. “See that you do.”

“Sure thing, boss man, sure thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, I am a horrible trash fire and can't leave this dumb story alone. Haven't decided if it'll be Nifty or Vaggie next... but it's coming either way.


	3. Nifty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way to a man's heart is through his stomach

Nifty liked Angel Dust. The man was pretty and tall and always so helpful when she asked for assistance reaching things high up. He would compliment her dresses and was always the first to notice if she had done something different with her hair or make up and most importantly he was neat and tidy.

So long as he wasn’t being called out at all hours by his pimp, his room was always the easiest to clean – laundry would be piled up neatly in the provided basket and there was almost never any trash or debris on the floor when she vacuumed. He cleaned up after his piggy and while he had asked her kindly not to touch his “special toys”, he kept them in a separate box out of the way that he promised to clean himself. She had kept up her end of the bargain, helping him mend his many outfits when needed and simply enjoying having someone interested in her more feminine hobbies to talk to.

She hadn’t minded when he’d started using her kitchen. He didn’t clean it quite to her standards when he was finished – though no one ever could, really – but he did his best and always left her a plate in the fridge of whatever delicious food he’d made so she didn’t mind having to wipe down counters to rid them of finger print smudges and scrub at dust mites that had landed in the grout of the tile after he’d left.

But today? Today might just be her limit.

Her kitchen was a _mess._ There was powdered sugar spread across the floor, lines of haphazardly wiped away flour and lard on the counter tops, oil splattered on her stovetop, a filthy apron tossed across the rag bin, and a sink full of dishes left behind. Little claws dug into her hair and pulled as she resisted the urge to shriek in horror, pulling out a rag and scrubbing at the stove top with fire in her eye.

Angel Dust was going to _burn_ for this! How dare he leave her kitchen in such a state! She brushed flour into the trash bin and whined when she caught sight of the greasy finger prints left along its edges. See if she ever let him cook in here again, where’d he even go after making such a mess –

Her gaze landed on a heeled foot print left in powdered sugar leading out the second set of doors next to a pile of white and she eagerly swept it up into her dustpan only to spy another pile splattered just a few feet away and another a few feet further. Her pupil dilated and she let out a little screeching hum, bolting between each pile and sweeping them up, following the trail down the hallway.

She turned a corner just in time to see Angel Dust open the door to the old lounge, a large tray in his hands piled with pastries and a carafe of coffee sprinkling powdered sugar onto the floor. Nifty bristled, crouching down and sweeping up every crumb and speck as she worked her way after him. The door clicked shut just as she reached it and a twist of the knob found it locked.

“Hey, I know you’re sittin’ there, but I got somethin’ for you so come out for a second.”

Nifty paused, hand poised to knock as Alastor of all people responded. “Oh? And what’s the occasion?” There was a long pause. “Are those…?”

“Y’said the other day that you’d been cravin’ beignets so I figured I’d give ‘em a try.” Angel Dust laughed and Nifty could hear how self conscious it was, lowering her hand in surprise. “I’ll have to go and clean up the kitchen before Niff comes back, she’ll have my head at the state I left it in but I was runnin’ late already so-“

There was a soft crunch of teeth through fried dough and Angel Dust trailed off.

Nifty leaned closer to the door, trying to hear better, able to pick up the click of Angel Dust’s heels as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, the sound of chewing, and the roar of the fireplace.

“Y’made beignets.”

Lifting a hand to her mouth, Nifty suppressed a gasp. Alastor was letting Angel Dust hear his normal speaking voice? He never let anyone do that – she’d only heard him use it a few times since she’d known him and only after years of being in his service.

“I… yeah? Coffee, too. Are they no good? I used a recipe I found online but I’ve never had ‘em before so I wasn’t sure-“

“They’re perfect, cher.”

There was the soft crunch of teeth through fried dough again as well as the click of Angel Dust’s teeth shutting in surprise. After a long moment, Angel Dust cleared his throat and she could hear him set the tray down. “Well, um… you’re welcome? I should go clean up the kitchen… shouldn’t take too long and then I can come back?”

“Can’t the kitchen wait?” Alastor almost sounded disappointed. “Y’had t’leave early th’ last three times and y’ve been gone all week.”

Angel Dust laughed and it sounded bitter. “Yeah, Val’s got great timing. I worked last night, so he shouldn’t call today…” Nifty listened as Alastor poured two cups of coffee and Angel Dust sighed. “I mean, I guess the kitchen can wait a little bit. I’m sure Nifty won’t be too mad?”

“ _Merveilleux_!” Nifty pictured Alastor’s beaming smile smudged with powdered sugar. “Have one, sha, I’ll feel like a glutton if I eat ‘em all myself! Ce sont délicieux! Très bon! Très magnifique!”

“Layin’ it on a bit thick, Al, it’s just dough and sugar…”

“They’re fantastic,” Alastor was talking with his mouth full and Nifty had to suppress a giggle at the thought of the straight laced Radio Demon acting so uncouth. “Every word is the honest truth!”

Angel Dust was laughing along now and Nifty heard him take a bite before humming in pleasure at the taste. “Well, I’m bettin’ nothin’ goes better with beignets than some jazz.” Nifty heard music start to play, an old timey upbeat piano followed by some sort of brass instrument and she was delighted to hear Angel Dust start to sing along.

“ _No one to talk to, all by myself. No one to walk with but I’m happy on the shelf. Ain’t misbehavin’, I’m savin’ all my love for you…”_

Nifty could hear Alastor humming quietly along and could easily picture him sitting in the wingback chair that had been left in the lounge, a beignet shedding powdered sugar onto his suit in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She heard the smile in Angel Dust’s voice as he sang along to a song from nearly a century past – a little piece of home for both of them tucked away down an unused hallway away from prying eyes.

She supposed she could clean up the kitchen this one time to let the boss enjoy his evening – neither of them had sounded this happy in ages. Though Angel Dust would certainly hear about it from her the next time he dared to leave a mess in her kitchen!

_“I don’t stay out late, no place to go. I’m home about eight, just me and my radio, ain’t misbehavin’, savin’ all my love for you…”_


	4. Vaggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaggie loved Charlie and sometimes that love meant dealing with stupid assholes who couldn't get their shit together.

Vaggie wasn’t blind or stupid, she could easily see a connection forming between Alastor and Angel Dust and she wanted NO part of it.

She could barely stand either of them on a good day, let alone together in the same room. Angel Dust’s loud, boisterous personality paired with Alastor’s ever present smile and backhanded words made her head throb and her fists and teeth clench. She didn’t try to understand how they worked together and quite honestly didn’t want to think too much on it, standing back and allowing it to happen – and luckily, they were quiet about it.

Beyond barely there touches at the small of Angel Dust’s back and not-so-secret-you-assholes-think-you’re-slick-don’t-you smiles across rooms and the bar, there weren’t too many obvious signs. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d just assume they were long time friends comfortable in each other’s presence, though after Valentino’s sudden passing the touches had increased in frequency and the personal space between them had shrunk considerably. At first, Vaggie had been surprised, expecting Angel Dust to be pawing all over the other man and that they’d be subjected to endless PDA and overt flirting, but while the former porn star still made his usual comments – and sometimes Alastor responded in kind - they were fewer and farther between than they used to be and he seemed to keep his hands to himself for the most part.

While Charlie cooed over how cute they were and Husker and Nifty indulged in the rare PDA moments that did slip by, Vaggie was just glad to not have to deal with finding them being gross with each other. As long as they weren’t causing trouble, she couldn’t care less what they got up to.

“Fuck you!”

Which is why she was quite displeased to walk down the hall and find them fighting in Angel Dust’s doorway.

“If you would just let me explain-“

“No, get fucked! There’s nothing for you to say and I hope you fucking _rot_.” Angel Dust used all four hands to roughly shove Alastor into the hallway and slammed the door behind him, the Radio Demon’s own hand raised uselessly as the door stopped shaking and Angel Dust could be heard shouting and swearing in Italian in his room as he threw things.

Vaggie watched for a moment while Alastor obviously considered forcing his way back in before hesitating, fist clenching at his side. “Trouble in paradise?”

He turned a cool gaze in her direction. “Simply a minor disagreement. I’m sure he’ll be right as rain in a few hours and we can put this nasty business aside.” He tapped his microphone stand and, with another look at the door, forced himself away, walking past her.

Continuing her path down the hall, she could hear Angel Dust’s ongoing tirade. “ _Figlio di puttana, chi pensa di essere, vai a farti fottere…”_

At the speed and the venom of the words, Vaggie didn’t have too hard of a time gleaning the actual meaning behind them and sighed, rolling her eyes as she walked on by. Alastor was probably right, while Angel Dust could be quick to anger he was just as quick to cooling off and she’d be surprised if she didn’t find him down at the bar that evening acting as if nothing had even happened.

The next day she found Alastor sitting primly at his usual seat at the bar exactly at seven, only she could see a certain tension in his shoulders and back. Husker was speaking to him quietly as Alastor rocked a half drunk glass of bourbon back and forth, his smile not half as wide as usual and eyes downcast.

“Vaggie,” she jumped, surprised by Charlie approaching from behind with a concerned look to her eyes, “have you seen Angel Dust? No one’s seen him all day.”

“Did you check his room?”

“Yeah, he’s not in there. Husk said he left the hotel late last night... but we’re not sure he ever came back.”

Vaggie blinked, “Maybe he went to see that friend of his? The Cyclops chick?”

“Maybe…” Charlie looked over in Alastor’s direction with a frown. “Did something happen? Angel Dust hasn’t disappeared like this since before Valentino… well… since before.”

“They got into an argument yesterday,” Vaggie shrugged. “Angel Dust is probably out working off some bitchiness and he’ll be back by sunrise.”

Charlie worried her lower lip, tugging on her sleeve absentmindedly, “Oh. I hope they’re okay. Alastor looks so sad. Think this is their first fight?”

Vaggie snorted, “Somehow I doubt those two can go two hours without having some sort of argument. I’m sure Angel Dust will be back and being his obnoxious self soon enough, don’t worry so much.“

Four more days passed without a sign of Angel Dust and each night Vaggie found Alastor sitting at the bar at seven, the seat next to him empty and his smile smaller and smaller. Charlie had attempted to contact Angel Dust only to get a series of middle finger emojis in response to each text she sent.

“Babe, you should just let them work it out themselves,” Vaggie sighed as Charlie chewed on her lip, staring at her phone as she contemplated another text message. “You’re gonna make yourself sick worrying like this.”

“But he’s so upset,” Charlie whined. “Al won’t even tell me what happened, he just gets all staticky when I ask and Angel Dust just sent me a dick made out texting symbols.” She rapidly switched between apps on her phone. “He’s been partying with Cherri for _five days_ now, and I only know that because they keep posting photos on his Instasnap at all the different clubs they’ve gone to…”

Vaggie peered at the photos, scrolling through and glad to see only bottles of alcohol on the tables and no signs of any sort of illicit drug use. Not fantastic, but nothing worth them going out to fetch him over.

“Maybe we should just go get him…”

“Hun, we both know how well that will work out. Whatever Alastor did pissed him off more than we thought – he’ll get over it. Angel Dust will tire himself out and come back when he’s ready, we just need to wait.” She put her hand over Charlie’s phone, leaning down to catch her eye. “If he’s not back in a few more days, I’ll go out with you… but he’s done this before and he always comes back, right? Fat Nuggets is still here, he wouldn’t leave him behind.”

Charlie sighed, nodding before turning a worried gaze to Alastor as the other man rose, his drink untouched, and started off towards the old lounge as he’d done every night that week.

Vaggie was almost sad to see Angel Dust return the next night, watching as he stormed up to the bar and slamming down a stack of “good boy points” before reaching right past Husker and nabbing the largest bottle of tequila they had.

“You been storing these up or somethin’?” Husker asked in disbelief, estimating close to fifty in the stack. “How’d you even-“

Alastor stood from his stool, reaching out, “Angel Dust, I-“

He was cut off at the look Angel Dust gave him, the fury in his eyes having not dimmed within the week as he flicked the cap off the bottle and started chugging as he stormed away up the stairs to his room.

Falling back onto his stool, Alastor sighed and Husk winced at the sound, reaching to pour another glass of bourbon only to find the one on the bar still untouched. Charlie looked between the bar and the stairs and with a soft touch to Vaggie’s arm, started running up the stairs after Angel Dust. Husker looked to Vaggie for help and she huffed, rolling her eyes as she approached.

“What’d you even do?”

“None of your business, and I’ll ask you to mind your tone,” Alastor replied, finally picking up his bourbon and throwing it back in one shot.

Vaggie scowled, crossing her arms. “Look, asshole, I don’t care what you fuckers get up to but all this shit is upsetting Charlie and that’s something I do care about. Get your shit together and make up already.” She gestured down the hall towards the old lounge. “Cook him dinner or buy him flowers, play him music or whatever dumb shit you’ve done whenever you’ve fought before.”

Alastor glanced at her, baring his teeth in a mock gesture of a smile, “Not that it’s any of your concern, but we’ve never fought like this before and every attempt at reconcilliation I have made has been rebuffed.” He turned his gaze back down to the empty glass in his hand, tilting it back and forth. “Seems I’ve made a quite spectacular mess of things.”

“I still think we should just lock the two of you in that damn room of yours and let nature take its course,” Husker shrugged, refilling the glass. “You’ll either fuck or fucking kill each other, either way this moping bullshit will stop.”

Giving a baleful laugh, Alastor tossed his drink back again. “He hasn’t stepped foot in there all week. It’s quite impossible to get him to anything he doesn’t want to do, I’m sure you’ll find… but if you do convince him, I’ll be there waiting as I have been.”

He rose from the bar and gave his microphone a lackluster twirl before making his way down the hall towards the old lounge. Vaggie groaned in frustration, pulling out her phone as it vibrated.

“ _He won’t let me in :C I don’t know what to do TT3TT”_

She looked to Husker. “You wanna try with Angel Dust? Charlie’s striking out.”

“He just took a bottle of my best silver, I’m not going near that asshole ‘til his hangover wears off.”

Rolling her eyes, Vaggie decided that she must love Charlie quite a lot to put up with this sort of horse-shittery. Muttering under her breath, she sent out a quick response and reached out for another bottle of alcohol at random before stalking towards the stairs. Pausing in front of Angel Dust’s door she swore again, trying to clear as much out of her system as possible before banging her fist to knock.

“Open up or I’m just gonna come in anyway, dickbag.”

After a long moment, Angel Dust opened the door, staring at her through narrowed eyes. “You’re the last one I ‘spected to come ‘round. Did Chacha send you?”

“No,” Vaggie waved the alcohol bottle – which turned out to be coconut rum – as a peace offering. “But I’m gettin’ real sick of this shit too, so we’re gonna hash it out like the foul mouthed bitches we are and see where it gets us.”

Angel Dust contemplated her for a long moment before stepping aside, curiosity getting the better of him. “Y’don’t peg me as the ‘talk about our feelins’ type.”

“That’s because I’m not, _culero_.”

She pushed past, listening as Angel Dust closed the door behind them, clicking the lock into place. Usually such a noise would have her tensing and prickling, but she knew Angel Dust had no interest in her and simply wanted his privacy – something she could respect. She dropped down on the plush pink ottoman, grabbing an empty glass off Angel Dust’s vanity and inspecting it – a stemless wineglass that said “Fresh out of fucks”. Topical.

Deeming it clean enough, she poured a healthy slug of rum into it. “Got anything to mix this shit with?”

Angel Dust shook his head, taking another long pull of tequila straight from the bottle.

“At least drink out of a glass, you degenerate.” She poured more into her cup, setting the bottle aside and taking a sip, wincing at the burn of straight alcohol. Damn, it’d been forever since she drank anything more than a glass of wine with dinner and she was taking it like a bitch.

Rolling his eyes, Angel Dust grabbed another stemless wine glass – one that said “Sugar Tits” in fancy script - pouring tequila damn near to top and taking a long pointed sip.

“So.” He sat down, leaning against the wall next to her. His brow knit and he took another sip. “Why’re you here?”

“Because you dumb fucks are making my life difficult and I want to make it stop.”

Angel Dust scowled, “Look, bitch, I let you in because I was surprised you of all fucking people decided to suddenly give a fuck. If you’re just gonna be a cunt about it, you can leave.”

“What, you want me to go get Charlie? She’s been chasing after you all week and you won’t give her the time of day which is a whole ‘nother thing I have to be pissed at you about,” she gestured at him with her glass. “I’m the only person who you’ll apparently talk to about this shit and you know I don’t give enough of a fuck to judge you, so just tell me what the hell happened.”

He took another defiant sip, averting his gaze and curling his legs up to his chest, lower arms wrapping around his shins.

“You seemed to be doing fine as far as I could tell, and if he’s got it right you’ve never fought before so obviously he did something super dickish to set you off.”

Angel Dust mumbled something into his drink and Vaggie looked unimpressed.

“He used to spy on me.”

“What? Like watching when you…?”

He let out a bitter laugh at the thought, “Yeah, no. I don’t think he can even look at the covers of my flicks let alone… well. But like… before we met. Did you know he can listen in on shit? Like if there’s a speaker or a microphone he can tune into it and listen to it? Anywhere in the city, it’s nuts.”

Vaggie suddenly felt very uncomfortable with her phone in her pocket.

“He promised Charlie not to spy on anyone in the hotel so you’re fine.” He waved his hand, leaning his head back against the wall. “But I guess he used to… I dunno… track me down? He didn’t know it was me, obviously, but he’d… listen to me sing.”

“…okay? Don’t you sing for him now? Charlie said she heard you in the kitchen with him once.”

“Yeah, Al’s caught a bunch of you fuckers eavesdropping,” Angel Dust rolled his eyes. “That’s the thing, though… I chose to sing for him. He asked me and I agreed, but before… I don’t even think I’m mad that he heard me, I’m mad that he didn’t tell me that’s why he... I felt…” he paused, letting out a sigh. “It was nice, when he asked. I didn’t even think he tolerated me and then suddenly he was sayin’ nice things about my singin’ and wanted to spend time with me and I thought well maybe we can get along after all and now I find out it’s just because he used to listen to me before all this and he just happened to find me.”

Vaggie took a sip to hide her confusion. She sort of understood how he would be mad about the invasion of privacy, but the intensity of Angel Dust’s anger seemed completely out of line. “He must’ve liked your voice?”

“No shit,” Angel Dust rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, it sounds stupid even to me. I felt… used isn’t the right word but kinda? Like he was just another john trying to get something out of me when I thought he was different?” He huffed, “But even that doesn’t make sense because, like, it’s not like he tried to be my friend first or pretended to like me, he just asked me to sing and I did it.”

“Well… what about now?”

Angel Dust frowned, looking at her.

“You said at first he just wanted you to sing and you did it. But what about now? Is that all he asks you to do when you’re together?”

He shook his head. “No. Sometimes… sometimes we just sit together and he’ll read a book while I’m on my phone. We go on walks sometimes… or he’ll just bring me out places like the aquarium, that was nice…”

“Okay, so obviously it’s not _just_ your singing he cares about.” Angel Dust shrugged noncommittally, draining his glass and reaching over to refill it. “Sounds to me like you’re just pissed off to be pissed off and don’t want to swallow your pride to accept whatever half assed apology he’s giving you.”

“He sent me flowers,” Angel Dust muttered. “I didn’t see ‘em ‘til today, but he sent them the other day. An’ he texted me… he hates textin’ but when I didn’t answer the phone he sent me some. Askin’ if I was okay and sayin’ sorry.”

Vaggie raised her eyebrows. She’d been joking when she snarked at Alastor about his attempts to make up, but to find out he’d actually been making said attempts? Solid ones, at that? She was actually kind of impressed.

“I feel stupid… gettin’ so mad… but I don’t know what to do about it now.”

They sat in silence for a long while, Vaggie nursing her drink and quietly pouring a new one as Angel Dust plucked at a loose thread on the end of his sleeve. Fat Nuggets was snuffling around in the bedroom and Vaggie resisted the urge to check her phone, feeling that it was important to stay and hear the man out.

“There’s this voice… in my head,” Angel Dust admitted quietly, staring down at the drink his hands. “It’s been there since I was a kid. Tellin’ me that I’m stupid an’ useless an’ everyone hates me an’ they’re not wrong t’ feel that way. An’ I spent mosta my life tryin’ t’ silence it or drown it out an’ convince myself that one day it would go away… an’ then I woke up here an’ it was still there.”

Vaggie watched him carefully as Angel Dust traced a delicate fingertip around the rim of the glass.

“When Val picked me up the first time, I thought it was my chance to… I dunno, be myself? I could dress how I wanted an’… _be_ what I wanted without worrying about anyone sayin’ anything an’ that maybe it would make it go away. There were drugs an’ sex an’ parties an’ so many people around all the time… but whenever I was alone it would come back. I told myself it was fine because even if people hated me, I still had all that other stuff to make me feel better but some nights… some nights were harder.”

She thought back to the first few nights Angel Dust was at the hotel and how he would spend damn near every waking second around them, chattering endlessly and at times obviously trying to provoke them into anger on purpose. It had been annoying and had only fueled her ire against the porn star, but hearing him now… she realized he’d felt adrift and was trying to find a way to cope without outright asking for help.

Because, she realized, he thought if he had asked, they might have said no.

He rested his face in his folded arms. “When I’m around Al… I don’t hear that voice anymore. I guess I stupidly thought… if I left first or made him mad enough, it’d hurt less when it came back ‘cause it’d be my fault anyway.”

“Is that why you went off on a five day bender? To try and piss him off?” Angel Dust shrugged a little bit. “Have you told him any of this?”

Angel Dust laughed and Vaggie felt uncomfortable with how wet it sounded. “If he finds out how crazy I really am, he definitely won’t want me around anymore.”

“Well, you’ve been acting like a crazy bitch all week and he’s still been waiting downstairs for you every night like a sad puppy.”

His head whipped up, eyes shining. “Huh?”

Vaggie tried her best to look uninterested, sipping idly at her rum. “I mean, he probably told you he was there because that’d be the smart thing to do. How every night he gets a drink at the bar and when you don’t show up he sits in the lounge waiting up ‘til sunrise. Looks like someone ran over his dog. It’s almost sad, really, ‘cause he seems to think you hate him now. You’d think he’d get the hint… and you’re already at the door fuck that was easy.”

Angel Dust paused, hand hovering over the door knob and looked over his shoulder, biting his lower lip. “What do I say? When I go down there? What if he’s mad at me an’ we fight again?”

“Then you say you’re sorry and _talk to each other_ ,” Vaggie drained the rest of her rum, standing up and wobbling only a little bit before setting the glass back on the vanity. “ _El que tiene boca se equivoca._ You two idiots are way too old for this teenage bullshit, so go use your words and talk to your damn boyfriend already.”

Angel Dust flushed at the word ‘boyfriend’ before nodding decisively and practically running down the hall. Vaggie barked out a laugh, throwing her head back with a deep sigh, running both hands through her hair and scratching at her scalp.

Fuck, maybe she did like the stupid bastards after all.

Collecting the half empty bottles of liquor, she wobbled her way down the stairs to return them to the bar and gave Husk a shrug at his confused look. She opted to use the elevator to head back up to her and Charlie’s room, finding her girlfriend sitting in bed playing on her phone only to toss it aside as she approached.

“How’d it go? Did they make up? Vaggie, what happened??”

“We drank and had a talk,” she replied, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and taking her hand, sure her face must be flushed after three glasses of straight rum. She would regret it in the morning. “They’ll have to work it out from here themselves, like I told you. But… something tells me they’ll be fine. They’re too stupid not to be.”

Charlie beamed, throwing her arms around her and snuggling close. “I love you so much, do you know that?”

Vaggie laughed, rubbing her shoulder, “I have some idea. You can show me when I’m vomiting out my hungover insides tomorrow.”

The next day, Vaggie was not surprised to find herself more hungover than she could remember being in her afterlife and unable to crawl out of bed without wanting to die until close to two in the afternoon. With Charlie’s careful help and a boatload of aspirin and water, she wandered down into the lobby to greet the day and get some fresh air.

She was even less surprised to find Angel Dust and Alastor out in the garden together, sitting underneath the oversized tree near the corner. Angel Dust was laid down in the grass with his head in Alastor’s lap, the other man combing fingers through his hair, a book in his free hand while _he_ sang softly to the spider.

It might’ve been the hangover, but she blamed her nausea on the PDA in front of her and, as she went back inside, she resisted the urge to smile. The stupid bastards would definitely be fine - they had the rest of them to support them, after all.

“ _It’s so hard to look up when you been down, sure would hate to see you give up now, you look so much better when you smile, so smile.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE'S FANART AND MY HEART IS FULL OF RAINBOWS. GO LOVE THESE PEOPLE BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
> 
> Juniemunie on tumblr drew beautiful art for Chapter 3 . https://juniemunie.tumblr.com/post/189991406222/like-tiana-said-a-way-through-a-mans-heart-is
> 
> @mercvurii_x on twitter drew art for the last chapter of "You Do Something to Me" https://twitter.com/mercvurii_x/status/1209842638314074112
> 
> I'm working on a completely separate story right now but I love these stupid singing/dancing losers and I'm sure I'll come back with a part three soon enough, even if it's just a stand alone one shot... Thank you everyone for your love and support, it makes me so happy to get those emails about comments and to know you all love my stupid soppy romantic bullshit. You're all amazing <3


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